


Show Me, Don't Tell Me

by Amuly



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Dating, Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-03
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto's first date after TYTNW</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me, Don't Tell Me

Jack was stabbing the tablecloth with his knife. _Stabbing the tablecloth_. With his _steak knife_. At a _five-star_ restaurant.

Ianto glared. He continued to glare at the knife as he took a sip of his wine and set the glass back down. He continued to glare at the knife even as the waiter brought them their entrees, and both men let the food just sit in front of them. Jack was stab, stab, stabbing the table, refusing to meet Ianto's eyes. And Ianto was glaring.

“Ahem.” Ianto coughed none-too-delicately. Jack's head shot up, taking one look at Ianto's glare and following it to his knife. With a sheepish grin, Jack set the knife neatly down on the table.

Some semblance of manners achieved, Ianto set about trying to take full advantage of the date. Too soon, Ianto found that without the distraction Jack's stabbing at the table had offered the two of them, he had nothing to say. Their eyes skittered over each other's as they both poked half-heartedly at their food, before setting their utensils down entirely and staring blankly around the restaurant. Ianto took another swig of his wine. The waiter appeared at his elbow and refilled it.

“So...” Jack's eyes followed the waiter as he left, before turning back to Ianto. “So. Do...” he stopped, fiddled with his knife, set it down, stared at the ceiling, glanced at Ianto, then smiled crookedly. “I'm going to say this, but promise you won't storm out right away, okay?”

Ianto arched an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. A nervous jolt went through him, but he nodded, keeping his face as stoic as he could.

“Wouldn't you just rather... er... fuck?”

Ianto counted to ten, and didn't walk out. He had nodded at Jack's request not to, after all. Giving himself thirty seconds to contemplate Jack's nervousness and examine his own feelings on the matter, Ianto finally found a response. “A bit,” he admitted. Though when Jack seemed ready to rise out of his seat, Ianto arched an eyebrow. 

Jack slowly settled back down. “Well?” he questioned. “What are we doing?”

Ianto sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair and looking around the restaurant. “I don't know, Jack,” he grumbled. “What _are_ we doing?”

Jack frowned at that, obviously picking up on the double-meaning of Ianto's question. Before he could reply – surely to spout some nonsense about 51 st century mores and the wave of the future – Ianto continued. 

“I thought maybe you wanted to go on a date with me to show me that you... I dunno,” Ianto grumbled, “ _cared_. God forbid.”

Jack frowned, eyes soft. “But I do. That's... that's why I asked. Because that's how you people show it, right? The dates, and food, and,” Jack glanced around the restaurant, “fancy waiters. All that.”

“That's...” Ianto paused, considering this. As he was thinking, Jack leaned across the table and covered Ianto's hand with his. Serious blue eyes stared across the table at Ianto as Jack spoke again.

“When I said I came back for you, Ianto, I meant _you_. All of you, sure. But you in particular.”

Ianto pulled his hand away from Jack's decisively, raising his hand for the waiter. “Prove it to me,” he challenged Jack. “How  _you_ would prove it,” he added at Jack's confusion, “not how you think I want you to prove it.”

With a grin, Jack slapped several hundred pounds down on the table and stood, offering his arm to Ianto. “Let me show you.”


End file.
